**The Return of Lydia**
Lydia stood outside Simon’s flat, fidgeting with the strap of her handbag. Two and a half years ago, she’d stormed out, slamming the door behind her, convinced that Paul—his wealthy friend with the flashy car—would give her the life she’d dreamed of. But Paul wasn’t who he seemed, and now Lydia had decided to return. “Simon always loved me,” she thought. “He’ll take me back—where else would he go?” She pressed the doorbell, smoothed her hair, and forced a smile. Simon answered, his surprised “Well, well, look who’s here! What brings you?” making her stand a little taller.
“I’ve come back,” she said, inhaling the scent of roast potatoes and bangers. “Cooking dinner? Smells lovely.” Simon frowned. “Back? To me?” Lydia nodded, but his next words threw her: “We’ve already eaten. Sorry, can’t invite you in.”
“We?” Her stomach twisted. “Who’s ‘we’?” Then a woman stepped out from the kitchen. Lydia squinted—and gasped. It was Olivia, her old friend, the one she’d once clinked glasses of prosecco with while plotting how to leave Simon.
Lydia and Simon had married five years ago, but their marriage was a battlefield. She wanted luxury—fancy restaurants, holidays abroad, expensive dresses. Simon, an engineer at a factory, earned modestly, though he tried. His parents sent groceries from their village to help, but Lydia scoffed: “I don’t want their eggs and cheese!” She splurged her own wages on clothes and a new phone on credit, then demanded more from Simon. “You’re a pauper,” she’d snap. “Why did I ever tie myself to you?” He asked her to tidy the flat, but she refused: “It’s *your* place—I’m not the housekeeper.”
Everything changed when Lydia fell for Paul. Charming, wealthy, he wined and dined her, promising the moon. Olivia had warned her: “Lyd, Paul’s a player—think carefully!” But Lydia didn’t listen. She packed her bags, tossed Simon the keys, and left with Paul without a goodbye. Olivia stayed behind, cleaning up the mess Lydia left. Lydia had laughed then: “Take Simon if you want him—he’s yours!” She never imagined those words would come true.
Life with Paul was no fairy tale. He was generous but demanded obedience, and his “nights out” with other women wore her down. After two years, she heard Simon had been promoted, bought a car, and stayed single. “He’s waiting for me,” she decided, scribbling a note to Paul and leaving. But now, standing in that doorway, she stared at Olivia, who simply said, “Hello, old friend. Why so shocked? You gave him to me.”
Lydia’s cheeks burned. “You’re married?” she choked out. Simon nodded. “Yes, Lydia. And we’re happy. What did you expect?” She faltered. “I thought… maybe we could…” Olivia cut in gently: “Lydia, you’ve got family. They’ll be glad to see you. Simon and I have things to do. Goodbye.” The door shut, leaving Lydia alone on the landing, clutching her bag.
She remembered Olivia cleaning that flat, baking pies, visiting her gran. Lydia had mocked her “simplicity”—but now she saw: Olivia gave Simon what she never could—care, warmth, love. Lydia thought of running back to Paul, but her note had burned that bridge. Her parents? They’d distanced themselves, hurt by her choices. She sank onto the bench outside, the world crumbling around her. “What have I done?” she whispered, but there was no answer.
Inside, Simon and Olivia set the table. A month later, twins arrived, and Simon’s parents, adoring their new daughter-in-law, couldn’t have been prouder. Lydia? She was left with nothing but regret. Life, as Olivia had warned, doesn’t forgive those who toss away what’s real for a mirage.
**Lesson learned:** Never trade love for glitter—it always fades.
